(chorus) I'm just a curbside prophet With my hand in my pocket And I'm waiting for my rocket to come I'm just a curbside prophet With my hand in my pocket And I'm waiting for my rocket y'all
You see it started way back in nyc When I stole my first rhyme from the m-I-c At a west end avenue at 63 It's a beginning of a leap year february '96 Play the guitar picked it up in the mix I committed to the licks Like a nickel bag 'o tricks Oh, well Look at me now Look at me now Look at me now now now now
I'm just a curbside prophet With my hand in my pocket And I'm waiting for my rocket to come I'm just a curbside prophet With my hand in my pocket And I'm waiting for my rocket y'all
Well then you never da never da guess What I been been been And I have no regrets that I bet My whole checking account Because it all amounts to nothing up in the end Well you can only count that 'On the road again' Will soon be on my radio dial And I'll be paying close attention to the willie nelson style Like a a band of gypsies on the highway wild As I'm a one-man mission on the califoria skyline Drive up the coast, I brag and I boast Because I'm picking up a pace That make you tire like 'space ghost' Raising a toast to the highway patrol with the most But my cruise control's on coast Cause I'm tourin' around the nation on extended Vacation See I got elsa the dog who exceeds my limitation I say, 'I like your style, crazy pound pup! You need a ride? well come on girl, hop in the truck!'
With the curbside prophet With my hand in my pocket And I'm waiting for my rocket to come
I'm just a curbside prophet With my hand in my pocket And I'm waiting for my rocket y'all
I'm just a curbside prophet With my hand in my pocket And I'm waiting for my rocket to come I'm just a curbside prophet With my hand in my pocket And I'm waiting for my rocket y'all
See I'm a down-home brother red-neck undercover With my guitar here I'm ready to play And I'm a sucker for a philly got a natural ability Geared to free-style look at my flexibility Dangerous on the mic My ghetto hat's cocked right All the ladies say 'yo that kid is crazy!' We got the backstage bettys Takin' more than they can get They say, 'what's up with m-r-a-z?'
Hey hey hey hey Something's different in the world today Well they changed my traffic signs To a brighter yellow Hey hey Something's different in the world today Well they changed my traffic signs To a brighter yellow
I'm just a curbside prophet, love A curbside prophet, love A curbside prophet, love A curbside, oh come on I'm just a curbside prophet Waiting for my rocket, I said I'm waiting for my rocket to come down Curbside Come down, brother To the curbside, hey...